


Ardent

by vigilantejam



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vigilantejam/pseuds/vigilantejam
Summary: Lieutenant Gore is in charge of morale. But who’s taking care of him?a smattering of fluffy smutty sweetness for the last day of terror rarepair week :)
Relationships: Henry Foster Collins/Graham Gore
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	Ardent

Graham Gore was a man who gave people what they needed. Henry had noticed it in the quiet encouragement of the junior officers, the patient smiles and assurances to Sir John, and the occasional stern look and dig into Lieutenant Le Vesconte’s ribs. Wherever one was on the ship, it seemed, Lieutenant Gore was available to ease a worry, buck up a spirit, and cheer an effort. It made Henry wonder if, when it came to what Graham needed, anyone else were as attentive.

It was not long after two bells when there came a light knock on the door to Henry’s cabin. The ship was beginning to rouse. As was Henry. In the manner of their particular mornings together, Graham’s voice hummed pleasantly through the slats.

“Are you well, Mr Collins?”

“Quite well, Lieutenant, thank you.”

It wasn’t until Graham had slipped into the cabin with the door pushed closed behind him that they both broke into grins and informality. Henry did not rise to meet him, but rather shuffled over on the bunk. The space was not made for two, yet it had never bothered him to share with Graham. Hastily stripped down to his shirt in a few quick movements, Graham moved to pull back the covers only to be stopped by Henry’s arm clamped tight around the sheets and a clipped order Henry hoped would not give offence or draw ridicule.

“Trousers too, Lieutenant.”

“Oh,” Graham said, only the slightest hesitation in his hands before he set aside his boots and the rest of his clothes.

Henry then drew back the blankets to allow the lieutenant in. In honesty he was a little cold for being alone, but as Graham slipped in alongside him and the barest brush of his skin caught Henry alight, he knew for certain the momentary chill would soon be thawed.

“Sorry about my feet,” he smiled, and touched his toes to Graham’s long calves, making him jump and bite his lip to cover the yelp. His hand closed around Henry’s bare arm and the two sets of eyes snapped to look at it immediately. Their legs twining together somehow had not done it, but Graham’s hand, gripped where usually he would meet a shirt sleeve and finding skin brought home that they had never lain naked together before.

“Is this okay?” Henry asked, somewhat belatedly.

Graham looked at him with blue eyes shining in wonder and nodded as a blush coloured his cheeks. He shifted his shoulders and rolled just a little closer to Henry, turning so the hardening shape of his cock met Henry’s hip and made them each draw a quick breath.

“Yes, Mr Collins, I think this will do nicely.”

Graham’s hands then, nimble and weather-bitten, began to run over every bit of Henry he could get a hold of, taking in the shapes and curves of him, fingers lacing through dark hairs and splaying wide over his chest, pressing into his ample thighs and clutching him close. 

With an oiled hand Graham grasped him finally. This much was not unusual, Graham’s arm between them, frigging Henry’s cock with a well-turned wrist as he kissed Henry’s gasps and moans from his lips and scattered them over his jaw. Unfamiliar was Henry wrenching himself from this repose, leaning over Graham to help himself to the oil and reciprocate. On a bold impulse Henry took Graham’s wrist and moved his hand lower, pushed it between his thighs. He left him there, sliding through muscle, as he took up Graham’s prick.

Graham’s responses, so rarely concealed, were now muffled into the crook of Henry’s neck. Anointed with hot breath and praise, Henry was only encouraged to tease more soft noises from him, to make him squirm as Henry’s thumb brushed and whorled around the dusk-pink circle of his nipples.

Henry hummed happily and caught Graham’s face in his hand, and pressed a kiss to his bow-shaped lips. For a moment on this ever-moving, living ship, everything conspired to quiet at once, and in the silence, in the breath that held them, they had a moment just for them. For all their stolen and hurried time together, the kisses, the slick hands, and thighs wedged against thighs, this felt decadent to Henry, an indulgent treat all the sweeter for being shared. 

“God, Henry,” Graham sighed, perhaps feeling the same way. He seemed smaller for a moment, curled against Henry’s side, wrapped in Henry’s arms, and then came a glint to his eyes, and his smile grew to meet the boyish glow to his cheeks. He pushed at Henry’s shoulder to turn him and kissed between his shoulder blades, the slippery length of his cock gliding perfectly along the cleft of Henry’s buttocks once, and then in between his legs and the lubricious space left by his hand.

Henry rocked as much as he could on the narrow bunk, caught as he was between Graham’s hand on his cock again, and the bracket of his hips. With each movement Graham’s prick moved with a silk slide through Henry’s legs, and nudged against his stones. Graham’s breath came shorter, and his body bowed tight like a sail against him. Henry clenched his thighs and buttocks and Graham made a strangled sound against his neck.

“Please sir, make a terrible mess of me,” Henry said, gravel raking through his voice.

“Oh god,” Graham’s shuddering surprise was its own reward, and Henry felt his seed spilling and soaking between his legs as Graham panted, sweat-stuck against his back. In the stillness that followed Henry could feel the curve of a smile in the kisses that Graham pressed along the edge of his ear and into his hair.

“I wish I could stay,” Graham said, peeling himself away and making use of the washstand.

“Don’t you worry about it, Lieutenant,” Henry said with a chuckle. He rolled over to watch Graham redressing. “You have many more duties to be seeing to.”

“If only every seeing to was as pleasurable as this,” Graham said, his cheeks colouring again as he smoothed down his uniform and his eyes ran over Henry’s body. The fall of the sheets around his waist concealed what lay heavily beneath them, if not the movement of Henry's hand. Three bells was being called beyond the door where Graham hovered.

“Do not idle too long, Mr Collins,” he said, his command tone warmed through with mirth. “I'm sure you yourself have matters to attend.”


End file.
